


Coping Mechanism, Interrupted

by trapezoidscheme



Category: It's Always Sunny in Philadelphia
Genre: M/M, mac canonically thinks that rex is a Quality Lay, post s12 finale, they keeeesss
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-11
Updated: 2017-04-11
Packaged: 2018-10-17 11:37:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,220
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10593243
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/trapezoidscheme/pseuds/trapezoidscheme
Summary: To say that Mac fell hard after Dennis left him for some Midwestern Plains Trash would be an unfortunate understatement. He dealt with his feelings, of course, because you always have to deal with your feelings. It was just that he dealt with them in a super badass and unorthodox way, which involved punching holes into the walls of his newly renovated apartment, drinking excessively, and crying in the back office of Paddy’s after the rest of the Gang went home for the night.





	

To say that Mac fell hard after Dennis left him for some Midwestern Plains Trash would be an unfortunate understatement. He dealt with his feelings, of course, because you always have to deal with your feelings. It was just that he dealt with them in a super badass and unorthodox way, which involved punching holes into the walls of his newly renovated apartment, drinking excessively, and crying in the back office of Paddy’s after the rest of the Gang went home for the night.

Dee and Charlie had their coping mechanisms, too. They stopped being so secretive in their smoking, started doing it openly and often. The air in the bar would be clogged thick with smoke every single night, and it almost felt like the old days, when Frank still hung out with his buddies from Vietnam. Mac would always comment that they’d all get cancer and die someday, and Dee would reply with a noncommittal shrug. He dealt with it, though. The smell of smoke still never failed to make Mac nauseous and always reminded him of hands slapping his face and harsh (but loving, he reminds himself) voices in his ear. But, seeing the tension melt off of Frank’s shoulders and watching Charlie laugh at the way Dee holds her cigarette mostly made it worth it.

If Mac was struggling without Dennis, he didn’t even want to think about how Dee was feeling. On one hand, he didn’t care much, or at all, but on the other hand… she really did smoke  _ a lot _ . More than Charlie and Frank, for sure. Sometimes, he’d come into the bar early and find her there, cigarette in one hand and a half-empty beer bottle in another. There would be a silent understanding passed between them that she hadn’t gone home that night, and she would narrow her eyes and dare him to say anything about it. He would still nose in, still inform her that there’s no point in paying for an apartment if you’re not going to use it. She’d sputter, ask him what he knew about her damn life, and he’d leave her alone for the rest of the day, warily side-stepping her glares and shaking his head in warning when Charlie asked her what’s wrong.

 

It had been exactly two months since Dennis left and Mac knew he wouldn’t be able to fall asleep in their empty apartment that night, so he decided to make it another night of drunk- crying in the back office. Contrary to the Gang’s belief, these nights were always very meticulously planned, which makes them quite effective when pulled off exactly right.

The plan is usually this: start drinking once he could chase Charlie out, pass out somewhere around the bar a couple hours later (depending on what he’s drinking), then wake up, retreat to the office to drink some more, and cry until he passed out again. If you ask him, that’s a pretty damn good way to cope. He had selected the pool table as his pass-out destination for the night and was about an hour into his nap when the doorbell jingled and the lights suddenly flickered on. 

“We’re closed,” he mumbled, squeezing his eyes shut and willing himself to go back to sleep.

“Mac? Are you okay?” a voice called out. Alright, so he was actually going to have to deal with this. That’s fine. With great effort, Mac sat up, blinking into the lights with a sour expression on his face. He then locked eyes with the stranger, and promptly fell off the pool table.

 

Everything was dark and painful. “Fuck…” he groaned, and the stranger rushed toward him, knelt down to inspect his head for injuries. Mac’s eyes blearily focused on the stranger, appreciating his chiseled jawline and striking dark hair. Being out of the closet had several perks, but one of the biggest perks was being able to appreciate beautiful men without simultaneously making plans to go to church. Mac was fully committed to enjoying every second of it, so he let himself rake his eyes over the stranger’s body for an inappropriately long amount of time.

“Dude, are you okay? It's just me, Rex.” Oh shit, it was. He was even more beautiful now that Mac was out of the closet. Was that normal? “Are you okay, man?” Rex tried again, after Mac still hadn’t responded. Mac sucked in a breath through his teeth, grasped the hand that Rex had extended out to him and hauled himself off the floor.

“I’m not great, Rex!” Mac faked a cheery smile and began limping behind the counter to get them both a beer. Rex trailed him, staring at the ground like he was looking for some kind of prompt.

“Yeah… I heard about Dennis leaving, so I figured I would…” Rex trailed off, rubbing the back of his neck thoughtfully. Awkwardness flooded the space between them, but Mac shrugged his way through it, kept his head up, didn’t breathe it in. He offered Rex the beer with a tight grin, and it was accepted gratefully.

“Who told you Dennis left?” Mac asked after the silence became too soul-crushing to ignore anymore. The gang hadn’t seen Rex since… since Dee had that baby, probably. He was surprised Rex even remembered his name.

“Well, you know, Dee called me crying earlier tonight, and I got worried, so I--”

Mac laughed sharply, cutting Rex off. “She was  _ crying _ ?” 

“Um, yeah, she was--”

Mac kept laughing, wiping invisible tears from the corners of his eyes. Rex gave up on trying to hide his amusement, smiled quietly at Mac as he sipped at the drink. Man, he hated beer. He didn’t even know why he took it. 

Mac downed his beer abruptly and slammed it down, leaned in across the bar to Rex, let his eyes settle on Rex’s lips before lazily sliding them back up to meet his eyes. Rex jerked away, startled, but Mac was suddenly too drunk and definitely too gay to be deterred. 

“Why did you really come here tonight, Rex?” Mac wavered on his feet in his faux display of confidence and Rex’s eyes followed him as he walked out around the bar. Rex swiveled in the stool and felt the bar dig into his back, belatedly realized that he’s trapped, pinned like a toad under Mac’s unrelenting stare.

“Well…” Rex’s hands twisted in his lap and Mac watched them, patiently awaiting an answer. “Dee said you were spending the night here, so I thought you’d want--” Mac’s eyes flashed and Rex trailed off as Mac stepped closer, crowded Rex until he was standing between his legs, looking down at him with an unreadable expression. Rex swallowed nervously, but he didn’t push Mac away.

“I’ll tell you what I want…” Mac drawled, stroking a lazy hand down Rex’s cheek. The last thought that Rex remembers having is ‘fuck it,’ and he was pulling Mac’s face down to meet his and they were kissing, kissing,  _ finally _ . Mac gasped, obviously unused to being interrupted, but he quickly got his shit together and reciprocated, tangled his hand in Rex’s hair and relished the sound that Rex made when he pulled it. 

This is definitely better than crying in the back office, Mac thought with a smirk. Take that, Dennis.

**Author's Note:**

> when the macrex hits your eye  
> and you see dennis cry  
> thats a-goodstoryline


End file.
